For aspiring singer Ivy Hart, all that should be on her mind is to get a well paying job to help support her struggling and ailing family. But when she stumbles across a speakeasy in need of a new waitress, she crosses paths with a sarcastic yet wil...
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Soon approaching the cracked open door of Mrs. Hart's room, I bit my lip timidly one final time before finally knocking. My palms were almost dripping with sweat.
However the shaking of the tray surely didn't cover up my nerves as much as I wanted to.
"Ivy, stop that fuss! Ya already know better to come in." She now spoke. Whoops. Sorry.
Opening wide, I did as told. But the second I was in, it was all but cordial.
From the first glance, she stared at me oddly—like I was the Black Plague or worse...the Spanish Flu. I knew this was a bad idea to come in here. I knew I should've told the kids to work their muscles and get to work.
But I still didn't feel right about any of that though. I'd just have to face the music now.
"Y-y-you ain't Ivy..." She continued on, nearly breathless with a fearful look in her eyes too. More so than mine ever was.
Oh no. Now I definitely had to assure her she wasn't in any harm.
Say something Levi, say something.
"Uh, no. I'm not. But don't worry, I'm not here to cause any trouble. I promise. M-m-my name is Levi Janson! Ivy is my...co-worker. And friend." I shyly started out nicely. I wanted to say much more however. Like how Ivy was my rock. My heart. The beautiful words to all my melodies. Though without saying a word back, I knew I had to just continue on. "Ivy had to work late tonight. But she wanted—more like I wanted to come by and check on things for her. Make sure everyone was doing dandy. She tells me a lot about ya, Mrs. Hart. Ya have a lovely home...and family. I-I-I only wish I could be as close to my parents as she is with hers."
Still eyeing me like I was about to attack her at any moment she then slowly nodded, noticing her tray of food in my hand. I shyly smiled and rushed to put it in front of her bedside table—gently placing each thing down while she began monitoring my every move.
That wasn't enough either. What else could I do for her to at least say–
"Ya not like the others, huh?" She finally let out.
Freezing, I peered up to her and shrugged innocently. At least it was something.
"May I ask what ya mean by that?"
She then smirked, giggling to herself nodding. "Oh come on boy. Ya know exactly what I mean. I've been on this earth for over 47 years...and you're the first white man that would ever think about steppin' foot on our side of the tracks for anythin' let me tell ya."
Well, nice to know she definitely knew more words. "I'm just trying to help." I smiled.
"Please. I know my daughter quite well, Mr. Janson. She is surely not one who freely accepts help for her personal life. Ya say ya work with her?"
